


A Lube Job and a Windshield Washing

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-07
Updated: 2009-11-07
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Takes place during Season five, in the episode "Changing Channels." Sam's now a car...but that doesn't mean that he also doesn't have needs. And who better to fulfill them than Dean?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** My first story. Be kind. I know it's not the greatest.

"Sam...where the hell are you?" Dean said after Sam's cell phone went to the voicemail. They'd just gotten out of T.V.Land and Dean had assumed that Sam had come with him, but his brother was nowhere in sight.

 

"Dean?" Came Sam's voice, sounding as though he was speaking from inside a radio.

 

"Sam?! Where are you?" Dean asked, looking around in confusion.

 

"I...I don't know."

 

Dean froze as he realized what had happened. He was sitting in the front seat of the Impala, and where the radio should have been was a small screen with red bars that moved every time he heard Sam's voice.

 

"Damn it! We're in a Knightrider rip off!"

 

"Oh God..." Sam groaned. "So...you're basically sitting inside of me." Sam sounded both amused and mortified.

 

"Well, we're just going to have to tough this one out." Dean said determinedly, starting the car and driving off, practically hearing the theme from Knightrider playing in his head and grimacing.

 

It was very tedious, just driving around with Sam complaining about Dean's harsh driving on the rocky back roads of wherever the hell they were. Eventually, Dean noticed that the gas meter was running low and stopped at a gas station to fill up.

 

"Ouch!" Sam cried as Dean slammed the door. When Dean opened the gas nozzle, he could've sworn he heard Sam give a low hiss.

 

When Dean inserted the gas hose, Sam gasped.

 

"That's my pancreas you're touching!" Sam shouted.

 

"Yeah, well it's also your fuel storage." Dean muttered.

 

He glanced at the back tires and noticed that the exhaust pipe was dripping slightly. Without considering the Sam-to-car conversion chart, he bent down and ran his finger along the end of the pipe.

 

The entire car quivered.

 

"What did you do that for?" Dean asked in confusion.

 

"You...you just touched me...there." Sam said slowly.

 

"Where?" Dean was completely nonplussed.

 

"Where do you think!" Sam said more forcefully. Dean looked back at the exhaust and a sudden realization came to him. For a moment, he was appalled, and then an evil grin split his face.

 

"Oh, I'm sorry Sammy. I didn't mean to touch your big car dick."

 

"Shut up!" Sam said angrily. "Can we just get back to looking for the Trickster?"

 

"Oh, no, no, no! You're obviously in dire need of attention." Dean ran his hand up the length of the exhaust pipe.

 

Sam gave an audible gasp.

 

"Yeah, yeah...you like that, don't you Sammy." Dean purred, running his hand over the exhaust pipe once more. 

 

"Dean...please..." Sam breathed.

 

"Please what? You want me to make your engine run, Sam? Is that what you want?" Dean asked huskily, though Sam was already running at a low hum. Dean used the oil dripping from the exhaust pipe as lube and took the pipe in his fist, pumping it faster and faster until he heard Sam give a cry and the motor roared deafeningly. Dean fell back as several spurts of oil shot out of the pipe and onto his face. 

 

"Nice, Sammy." Dean said with a laugh, wiping the oil off on his shirt.

 

He got back into the driver's seat and patted the dashboard comfortingly.

 

"Thank you." Sam whispered shakily. 

 

Dean grinned and headed off again.

 

The continued to drive, not really knowing what they were supposed to do to get out of this. Dean was careful not to put Sam through too much, but Sam seemed perfectly content. After a few hours, Dean stopped the car under a large tree. It was now getting dark , and he knew that they wouldn't be out of this any time tonight. 

 

"Sam...do you mind if I take care of myself in here?" he asked hesitantly. The need had been growing ever since they left the gas station.

 

"Be my guest." Sam said. Dean could almost hear the smile in Sam's voice.

 

Hastily, Dean undid his seat buckle and then his belt and unzipped his jeans. He pulled his jeans and boxers off until they were down around his knees, freeing his aching hard on.

 

"Yeah...that's it..." Sam purred as Dean stroked himself to full hardness. A sudden idea came to Dean and he kicked his jeans and boxers completely off before climbing out of the car. Before Sam could protest, Dean hopped up on the hood, facing the windshield and sitting on his knees.

 

"Fuck yeah." Sam whispered. Dean scooted up until he was nearly flush against the windshield and rubbed his sac on the glass. The whole car shivered.

 

"Fuck. Sam!" Dean hissed, feeling liquid heat prickling through him. 

 

"Come on me." Sam purred. "Blow that hot load onto the windshield."

 

Dean gave three, long, slow strokes before he cried out and came, shooting the load from his dick on the windshield.

 

"Oh, Christ." Dean panted. "That was amazing..."

 

He clambered off the hood and climbed into the back seat, not bothering to put his jeans or boxers back on. He stretched out and looked at the roof of the car, smiling broadly.

 

The spray of washer fluid caught his attention, and he looked over to see the windshield wipers wiping away the stream of cum he'd released onto the windshield.

 

"Sam?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Thank you."

 

"Anytime." Sam replied, before locking the doors and settling into a glorious sleep. The would deal with the Trickster tomorrow...if they had the time.

 

END


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